


May the Shadows Protect Us

by mixermiz907



Series: Kyrwyn's Endeavors [1]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Dragonborn (Elder Scrolls), Eventual Smut, F/M, Markarth, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Morthal, Reluctant Dovahkiin | Dragonborn, Riften, Tags Are Hard, Thieves Guild, Thieves Guild Questline, Whiterun, Windhelm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-01-22 17:37:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21305954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mixermiz907/pseuds/mixermiz907
Summary: Riften has had its fair share of travelers from faraway lands, but never one like Kyrwyn, a Nord woman of many names and a runaway fugitive from the Thalmor, a descendant of the great Hero of Kvatch, and newfound Dragonborn. The calm tranquil life is all she desires, but will she ever obtain that when the Thieves' Guild is watching?
Relationships: Brynjolf/Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn
Series: Kyrwyn's Endeavors [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1536059
Comments: 5
Kudos: 13





	1. Riften: Land of Thieves

5th Frostfall 4E 201 

The bitter frost of Frostfall bit into Kyrwyn’s skin through the layers of her cloak as she neared Riften. She was this far south in Skyrim and it was still so cold that one can see their breath. Kyrwyn shivered, tightening the cloak around her neck and gripping her simple steel sword as if to get the circulation in her hands flowing.

_I really ought to get gloves when I get to the market, I can’t afford to lose my fingers. _She thought to herself.

“Hold,” a guard stopped her right as she neared the gate, “before I let you into Riften, you need to pay the visitor's tax.”

“What for?” Kyrwyn asked, annoyed

“For the privilege of entering the city, of course,” he said as if it was obvious.

“I’ve never heard of such a thing, this has to be a shakedown,” she said, exasperated. 

“Shh! Keep your voice down, I’ll let you in.” the guard said resigned, “There, you can go on in. Welcome to Riften,” he said as he unlocked the gate.

Kyrwyn quickly nodded and walked ahead into the city, only to be stopped by a Nord with dark hair, a long scruffy dark beard, clad in steel armor.

“I don’t know you, you come to Riften looking for trouble?” the man asked darkly.

“No trouble, just passing through,” she replied

“Well you better head on back, nothing to see here,” he said with venom in his voice.

“I’ll be the judge of that. What do you call yourself?”

“The name’s Maul. Who’s askin’?”

“Ozinvey,” she hesitantly gave him one of her false names.

“I’ll let you go about your business, _Ozinvey_, and I’ll be going back to minding my own business,” he muttered quickly, ending their conversation, stomping away..

“... Okay…” Kyrwyn shrugged as she made her way to the center of town. 

Kyrwyn approached the entrance of the Bee and Barb as she saw a Redguard man and Nord woman in a heated argument. From what she could hear, the man owed her money and he didn’t have her money. The woman left, running down to the lower level of the city. Kyrwyn accosted the Redguard and ask him what the argument was about.

“I borrowed money from Sapphire and I can’t pay her back if I _don’t_ pay her back, I fear she’ll kill me.” the man whispered hastily.

“I can talk to her if you’d like,” Kyrwyn said automatically, cursing herself silently for getting roped into helping yet another citizen in Skyrim.

“You would? Thank the Gods. I thought this was it. Thank you, traveler. I’m afraid I’ve forgotten my manners for a moment, My name is Shadr, and you are?”

“Ozinvey, a pleasure to make your acquaintance Shadr.” she beamed at him despite being cold, uncomfortable, and wary of the situation at hand.

“Hopefully you can make Sapphire see sense, I appreciate it Ozinvey.” he smiled at Kyrwyn.

“Well I best be off, do you know if any of the merchants sell any kind of gloves? Like cloth ones?” she inquired.

“Not sure, you could check with Bersi at the Pawned Prawn, or you can see if Grelka in the marketplace has any. Good luck, and just a forewarning, keep your gold secure in this city. I don’t know if you’re aware, but it’s home to the Thieves’ Guild.” he said

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said as she walked into The Bee and Barb to get some warmth before she ventured out to get new materials.

By entering the inn, it looked like two Argonians ran the place, Keerava and Talen-Jei, were the names Kyrwyn gathered by listening to those surrounding her in the inn. The clock loomed overhead, eight p.m.. She yawned as she neared the bar.

“What can I get you?” the female Argonian, Keerava asked her.

“A single room please?” Kyrwyn asked as her stomach growled loudly.

“Any food?”

“Sure,” she sighed, “what’s on the menu?”

“We’ve got some rabbit stew, bread, eidar cheese slices, wine. Any of that strike your fancy?”

“I’ll take a bit of each please.”

“Well, your total will be 37 Septims then,” Keerava said as she got the food and room key

She counted out 37 septims and set them on the counter.

“Then it’s settled, have a nice night madam.’ Keerava said as she started counting up her coins.

“Thanks, you too!”

She set the plate and bowl of food on a table nearby and started to eat as she observed the room a bit more.

A ginger-haired Nord sporting a short scraggly beard and jaded green eyes came into the inn and appeared to be observing Kyrwyn closely._ By Ysmir he was rather good looking._ He stood leaning against the wall in blue fine clothing. 

_Kyrwyn, stop it. You can’t be gawking at him like he’s a piece of art._

As Kyrwyn was having her own internal monologue, she had failed to realize that he had now sat across from her at the table.

“Never done an honest day’s work in your life for all that coin ye carrying? Ey lass?” the man said, chuckling.

“Pardon?”

“I’m saying ye got a lot of gold and didn’t earn any of it honestly. Am I right, lass?” he asked with a toying grin.

“How is my wealth your business?” Kyrwyn spat out, flustered. But amazed that he knew her gold wasn’t entirely honest.

“Ahh but that is where my business is lass. Sizing up your mark, determining their wealth. It’s what I do lass. Perhaps you’d like a taste of what it is that I do exactly?”

“What is it you have in mind?” She inquired as she took a nibble at her slice of eidar cheese.

“I’ve got an errand to perform, but I need an extra pair of hands. Think you could be of some help Lass?”

She took a couple of bites of her stew and took a swig of her wine as she pondered. Kyrywn really didn't have anything preventing her from helping yet another person.

“I guess I could help,” She finally said as she set her bottle of wine down, “Anything in it for me?”

“Gold, if you do the job well. The name’s Brynjolf.”

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance Brynjolf. I’m Ozinvey.” She replied smiling, the false name flowing freely off her tongue, “That that we’re on a first-name basis, what is this job exactly?”

“Meet me in the center of town come morning let’s say between eight a.m. and six p.m. I will cause a distraction and when I do, I need you to take a silver ring from a strongbox belonging to Madesi, it’s guaranteed to be in the stall in the market, and then you’ll need to place it in Brand-Shei’s pocket without him noticing. Think you can handle it, lass?”

“I don’t see myself having trouble doing those tasks. But why are we doing this to Brand-Shei?”

“Let’s just say someone wants to see Brand-Shei put into prison for a little while, their reasons aren’t necessary,” Brynjolf said.

“Very well,” she said taking another bite of her cheese. “Well, it was a pleasure meeting you, Brynjolf,” she smiled softly

“You too lass,” he said, “I’ll see you tomorrow just meet me at my stall when you’re ready and we’ll start.”

He got up and walked out of the inn. For the love of Talos, she had gotten herself into yet another ‘promise’ to help someone.

Kyrwyn quickly finished off her food and went to the upstairs portion of the inn to find her room for the night. Kyrwyn changed out of her leather armor and took off her armor laying it on the chair next to the bed and got under the blanket of furs, finished off her wine and drifted off to sleep.


	2. Picking Pockets

Kyrwyn awoke the next morning chilled to the bone.

“It seems to have gotten colder today,” she muttered to herself, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

She opened her pack and began to dress warmly with what layers she had in the bag, she put on some thin pants and a long sleeve shirt and laced up her leather armor around that. The armor was tighter than Kyrwyn was used to but it would make do.

She descended the stairs and gave Keerava the key to the room she had been assigned and asked what food she had to sell for the morning.

“The special for this morning is two green apples, a slice of goat cheese, milk, and a sweetroll for twenty Septims, and you can look at the menu on the counter if you’d like anything else,” she said, dully.

“I’ll take it,” Kyrwyn replied as her stomach growled with agreement as she set a pouch of twenty Septims in the Argonian’s hand.

“All set then,” she said handing her the food and ushering Kyrwyn away from the bar.

She quickly ate one of the apples and drank the milk and stowed the other apple, cheese, and sweetroll for later.

“Thanks again,” Kyrwyn waved to Talen-Jei and Keerava before exiting the Bee and Barb from the door closest to the center of town. 

Immediately after stepping outside she was reminded of the lack of gloves and that was the main purpose of entering the town.

_Maybe I could see if Brynjolf has a pair I could borrow… _Kyrwyn pondered to herself, rubbing her hands together. For whatever reason, she felt as though she could trust him, even though they had only met the day previous. It was thrilling and yet scary to be able to think she could trust anyone.

Trust wasn’t easily acquired when your family members were apart of the Blades. The thirtieth of Frostfall 4E 171, would forever be a day in infamy within her heart. That day was the day the couriers came from the Imperial City and proclaimed that all Blades agents were sentenced to death, their families were included within the sentence.

Kyrwyn was four years old at the time this had occurred. Her father had sent her elder sister, Maitreya, and herself, along with important volumes of text from Cloud Ruler Temple, to Fort Farragut, which had been in her family since the Hero of Kvatch claimed the fort for her own. 

Kyrwyn’s sister took them to the fort and deposited the tomes before taking them into town to find a family friend to relay the news of the imminent attack to be taking place at the Temple, thinking that they’d be inclined to help the sisters stay safe. 

Maitreya and Kyrwyn were very wrong. 

Days later the sisters heard a commotion outside the fort and Maitreya went out to investigate, Kyrwyn waited what seemed like hours before she teetered toward the exit and climbed up the secret ladder only to be ambushed by the Thalmor agents. They slew her sister before she even finished climbing the last rung of the ladder. 

Not knowing what else to do she ran to her sister’s body and fell to her knees. The agents upon seeing this took pity on the small child. She was spared, unlike her sister. Instead, Kyrwyn was taken away from the fort and into an unnamed Ayleid ruin that the Thalmor were using as a base during the Great War. 

The friends of their family that Maitreya thought the pair could trust, ratted them out in the end, causing the death of her sister and the imprisonment of Kyrwyn. 

Kyrwyn had finally escaped the Thalmor at nineteen years old, nearly fifteen years after her initial capture. Since the day Kyrwyn was first captured, she had feared trusting people, even in her time in the Brotherhood in Bruma and Cheydinhal it took a lot for her to trust them, the only one she was able to come to fully trust was Cicero, and then she had to leave again, the Thalmor had gotten her once again. Kyrwyn managed to break out of their captivity and fled. Remaining isolated from most human contact.

Most recently, in 4E 201, Kyrwyn was captured by the Imperials crossing the border. They took her to Helgen with the so-called ‘Stormcloak Rebellion’ and she was destined to be executed, then a dragon attacked, allowing her to escape, went to Riverwood, then to Bleak Falls Barrow, killed another dragon that was threatening the safety of Whiterun, and have been traveling aimlessly since trying to make sense what she is, ‘Dragonborn.’

“How hard is it to just want a normal life? “ she whispered to herself

_But I guess that isn’t possible for me, that isn’t an option for me. _

Of all things from being the daughter of Blades Agents, distantly descended from Tiber Septim, great-great-great-granddaughter of Caius Septim, the younger brother of the late Emperor Uriel Septim VII, and the great-great-granddaughter of the Hero of Kvatch, Kyrwyn knew that she descended from hundreds of years of Dragonborn through the tomes left in Farragut, however, she wouldn’t have thought that she would inherit the blood as well. Kyrwyn never knew that one could utilize the blood in the form of the Thu’um, she had only ever thought it was a symbol of diplomacy and royalty.

Kyrwyn shook her head as if to clear it of her rambling thoughts and focus on the task ahead. Kyrwyn finally got out of the way of the door to the Bee and Barb and walked over to Brynjolf’s stall.

_Damn, in the daylight he looks even better. _Kyrwyn thought blissfully as she blushed scarlet and once again shook her head to clear it.

There he stood, his long red hair shining in the sunlight his blue fine clothes complimenting his jade green eyes. 

“I’m ready when you are,” she said to him quietly. 

“Alright, lass.” Brynjolf smirked, “that’s your target, Brand-Shei” he continued pointing out a Dark Elf at the stall to the left of his stall, “and you’re taking the silver ring in that strongbox,” he said quietly pointing out the stall to the left of his stall.

“Simple enough, six lockpicks should be _more _than enough,” Kyrwyn said returning a smirk as she slipped a lockpick under her sleeve.

“Aye lass, get to it as soon as everyone is distracted.”

Kyrwyn started to walk away as she heard Brynjolf start the distraction.

“Attention, attention everyone,” he called, waving his arms for people to come forward.

“What is it this time Brynjolf?” Brand-Shei muttered as he took a seat on a crate in the front-left of his stall.

Kyrwyn crouched down as she approached the stall the Argonian abandoned to listen to Brynjolf’s scheme about so-called Falmer Blood Elixir. Opening the stall barely took any effort, and then broke only one of her six lockpicks on the strongbox.

_Simple enough, now to place it the elf’s pocket. _Kyrwyn smirked as she crept toward Brand-Shei, she looked at the pouch attached to his pants, the clasp was undone, almost as if he wanted to be framed. She silently opened the pouch and slid the ring inside.

_Well, that’s that. _She thought as she crept towards the center of the market, standing up and motioning to Brynjolf.

“Well that’s all the time I have for today folks, come back tomorrow if you wish to buy the elixir,” he said with a final note to the crowd.

“Good work, lass. I'm surprised you got the job done.” He said to her as they watched Brand-Shei get arrested for the ring Kyrwyn placed on him and Brynjolf placed a satchel of Septims in her hand.

“Thanks. It was _too_ easy,” Kyrwyn muttered as she stowed the money in her pack, “the damn elf had his pouch unlatched just begging for me to place the ring on him,” she smirked.

“I’d like to formally welcome you to our organization.” Brynjolf said, “if you’re interested in accepting the offer, you’ll find us in the Ragged Flagon, on the lower level of the city you’ll find the Ratway, through the Ratway is the Flagon. Shall I see you there lass?”

“I’d be honored Brynjolf. I’ll be there.” she replied simply, “if there’s more coin in it, I’m more than willing,”

“That’s what I like to hear, now be careful in the Ratway, there are many lowlifes squatting down there that would like to put a couple of daggers in the unwanted intruders. But I’m _certain _you can handle it,” he murmured.

“Fair enough. I can definitely handle it.” Kyrwyn gestured to her steel sword attached to her belt and patted her leather armor.

Brynjolf nodded and started walking away toward the Temple of Mara as she went to find a flight of steps to the lower level.


	3. Very Ragged Flagon

After walking the length of the city twice Kyrwyn finally found the steps she was looking for and descended to the lower level of the city. The bottom level comprised of wooden bridges crossing the water to a grouping of small run-down homes lining the inner and outer rim of the bottom level of the city that reminded me eerily of homes Kyrwyn used to squat in when she’d hide from the Thalmor. The water smelled stagnant as if it wasn’t passing through to the lake surrounding the southern end of the city. She crossed one of the few bridges between the inner and outer portion of the waterway and walked until she saw a wrought iron gate with a sign plastered to it stating a warning about not entering the Ratway.

Kyrwyn chuckled to herself before opening the gate with a loud squeak of its hinges, closing the gate behind her. The network of tunnels was dark, dingy and dead silent, save for the sound of running water, and the sound of dripping coming off of the ceiling, wetting her scalp with what she had hoped was also water. 

She cast a ball of arcane fire in her right hand to illuminate the Ratway just enough to see what was right in front of her, Kyrwyn then carefully crouched as she crept further in the network of tunnels.

_This place seems empty… too empty. Was Brynjolf just messing around about the lowlifes? _she thought as she observed the area ahead.

As Kyrwyn continued through the tunnel, she noticed a pair of Nords sleeping on bedrolls by a small makeshift fire and made a mental note that they would probably be around here when and if she went back this way just in case they gave her trouble. 

She crouched back down slowly walking as she found a seven-foot drop with a bridge that looked as if it hadn’t been lowered in years. Kyrwyn pondered it for a second and suddenly the gate went down with a loud thud and a cloud of dust as if someone quickly lowered the bridge and disappeared out of sight.

_Seems it isn’t empty after all, _Kyrwyn thought to herself chuckling softly as she neared an Orsimer in rags standing by a table.

A moment later he draws what appears to be an iron battleaxe and asks, “Who’s there?”

She stepped out of the shadow and into the light charging up a firebolt in her right hand as he readied his axe and charged toward Kyrwyn shouting, “I’ll shatter your bones like glass!”

“Not today, you ugly brute,” She warned as Kyrywn sent the fire straight for his face

He screamed with pain as his beard and skin started to burn. He dropped his axe as if to try and extinguish the flames with both hands, leaving his torso unprotected.

Kyrwyn smirked as she withdrew her sword from its sheath, take it into her left hand and drove it through his chest smearing her sword, and hand, with blood. He coughed blood onto her face before slumping down to the floor in a heap of blood and ragged clothing. Kyrwyn removed her sword from his torso, sheathed it and turned him over to inspect his pockets; in them were a couple of coins and a pair of gloves in his pocket.

“Guess I don’t need to buy gloves anymore,” Kyrwyn said aloud as she began to chuckle like a madman and placed the coins and gloves in her own satchel.

Taking a small flight of steps down she came across the door that she’d been looking for. The door to the Ragged Flagon. As she opened the door to the Flagon, the smell of the sewer diminished and was replaced by the smell of a classic yet damp tavern that appeared to be all that was left of an underground bazaar.

“Give it up, Brynjolf… those days are over,” a man with a thick Nord accent said, his voice echoing across the tunnel.

“I’m telling ye, this one’s different…” Brynjolf replied.

“We’ve all heard that one before, Bryn! Quit kidding yourself,” another man said.

“It’s time to face the truth, old friend. You, Vex, Mercer… you’re the last of a dying breed,” the first man said.

“Dying breed ehh? What do ye call that then?” Brynjolf gestured toward Kyrwyn as her thin frame came into the view of the other figures in the room. He was no longer wearing the fine clothes he wore in the market, he now wore black leather armor with many pockets and pouches sewn in the jacket.

Kyrwyn smoothed her light brown hair as if to make herself presentable, “Sorry I took so long, got into a slight scuffle right outside with a damnable Orc low-life. Nothing I couldn’t handle though.” she chuckled waving her bloodied hand.

“Well, well... color me impressed, lass. I wasn’t certain I’d be seeing you again.” Brynjolf said astounded.

“As I said ‘nothing I couldn’t handle’ it was simple to get down here.”

“Reliable _and _headstrong. Lass, you’re becoming quite the prize,” Brynjolf said with surprise clear in his voice, “so… now that I’ve whetted your appetite with our little scheme in the market, how about handling a few deadbeats for me?” he continued, his face forming a smirk at the end of his request.

“Deadbeats? What’d they do?” she asked arching an eyebrow as she returned a smirk. Deadbeats are annoying, stubborn people and yet fun to provoke.

“They owe our organization some serious coin and they’ve decided not to pay. I want you to explain to them the error of their ways.”

“Sounds good who are they?”

“Keerava whom you’ve already met, Bersi Honey-Hand who owns the Pawned Prawn, and Haelga, she owns the Bunkhouse. Do this right and I can promise you a permanent place in our organization.”

“Any particular way I should go about handling this?” She inquired as she took out an old rag and finally starting cleaning off her hand and blade from the Orc.

“Honestly, the debt is secondary here. What’s more important is that you get the message across that we aren’t to be ignored. Word of warning though, I don’t want any of them killed. Bad for business.”

“Consider it done,” She beamed, sheathing her mostly clean sword.

“Good. Here’s a list of the details on your marks. Get going then,” he said handing me a slip of parchment with some details on each mark and what can/will get them to cave.

“Understood. You’ll get the coin and they’ll get the message,” Kyrwyn said as she walked out of the Flagon and back into the Ratway.


	4. Coercion at its Finest

The area just outside the Flagon reeked with the taint of the damp air and the metallic tang of blood from the Orc Kyrwyn had killed only minutes before was _everywhere_.

“Looks like I’m getting rusty with keeping my kills clean,” she muttered aloud to no one, a devilish smirk creeping up on her face.

Kyrwyn recomposed herself before clutching her sword in her left hand and readying a ball of flames in her right hand in the event those men last seen sleeping by the entrance, were awake.

Crossing the bridge the metallic smell of blood faded and was replaced by the scent of mead, one of the men was awake by the time she neared where they were settled. Before he could spot her, Kyrwyn sheathed her sword and grabbed a dagger from her boot and threw it at the man, lodging it in his throat, his words forming in his mouth were cut off by the blood choking him and spilling from his mouth. As she came into view she knelt beside him, grabbed the dagger from his throat and used that same blade to slit the other man’s throat.

“Much better, just like old times with the Brotherhood.” she smiled reminiscently as she searched their remains for anything useful. Together they had fifteen septims and three lockpicks so she took them and made her way to the exit.

Kyrwyn closed the gate to the ratway and immediately kneeled on the water’s edge and rinsed off her dagger, sword, and hand and tried to make the bloodstain on her leather cuirass less noticeable. 

Satisfied, she got up and carefully continued up the stairs and to the main level of the city.

During the time she was below the city, the confusion of Brand-Shei’s arrest seemed to die down and everyone had settled back into what she thought was their normal routine. 

Smirking at the crowd Kyrwyn went in search of the Pawned Prawn and more importantly Bersi Honey-Hand. Brynjolf had mentioned an ancient dwarven urn would make him pay his dues if she threatened to break it, this would be fun for her.

Kyrwyn found the store pretty easily and went inside and behind the counter was a balding Nord man who was assumed to be Bersi. 

“I have a message from Brynjolf,” Kyrwyn said as she approached him, her chest held high.

“Wha… what? Oh, it’s one of _your _people. So, Brynjolf doesn’t even bother to show up himself anymore, eh? What’s this message?”

“It’s a simple message if you neglect to pay, bad things will happen,” she smiled darkly.

“Petty threats and fist-waving are not going to sway me. You people are all talk, and everyone it. Pay you to protect me? You can’t even protect yourselves!” he growled.

“We can protect ourselves, trust me.”

“Don’t fool yourselves, it’s only a matter of time before you people are run out of Riften.”

Her smile faltered, “I’ve had enough of this,” Kyrwyn walked over to the urn on the windowsill. She proceeded to pick it up and throw it on the ground causing it to shatter into tiny fragments.

“No! That urn was priceless,” he choked out, his mouth agape.

“Want me to break anything else?”

“Alright! I get it. I’ll pay on time from now on. Just don’t break anything else. Here take your gold, and leave me in peace,” he said quickly handing her a pouch of one hundred septims.

“Pleasure doing business with you,” Kyrwyn beamed and practically skipped out of the store.

Now Kyrwyn moved toward finding Haelga, Brynjolf’s notes said that she kept a statue of the goddess Dibella. 

_If I can snag that, I can use it as leverage to get her to be bent on paying._ Kyrwyn thought to herself as she crossed the bridge and made her way to the bunkhouse.

She entered the bunkhouse and instead of confronting blonde, busty Nord, she automatically went to find the statue of Dibella which was in plain sight. Kyrwyn took the statue and tucked it into her arm and walked over to Haelga with it.

“Want me to dump this into the well?” she asked mockingly to Haelga as she gestured with her free hand to the statue in her arm.

“Not Lady Dibella! No please, I can’t lose her!” she panicked.

“Brynjolf wants you to pay up, and if you don’t,” Kyrwyn shrugged nonchalantly, ‘I guess Lady Dibella is gonna go for a swim in the lake.”

“I get the message. Here, take your gold. I hope you choke on it,” she spat bitterly shoving a pouch of a hundred septims into Kyrwyn’s hand.

“Thank you!” she beamed changing her tone, “have a nice day!” coin in her hand, she turned her heel and left the bunkhouse.

_Now for Keerava, hopefully, she doesn’t give much trouble. _Kyrwyn thought as she crossed the bridge and into the Bee and Barb.

Kyrwyn approached her and went to speak, before she could utter a sound Keerava cut her off and said, “Look, everything was all just a misunderstanding. I didn’t mean to tell Brynjolf to jump off a pier. You’ll tell him I said sorry, yes? Take this. Every single coin I owe is there, I swear it.” she finished quickly thrusting a sack of one hundred septims in her face.

Kyrwyn nodded quickly and stowed the coin with the rest of the debt she had collected and walked out of the inn and down to the Ratway. Once she closed the gate behind her, she started jogging toward the Flagon to return the news and gold.

When she had returned to the Flagon, everything was about the same from when she left.

“Didn’t think you’d be back so soon lass. Anyway, the job’s done, and you even brought their gold. Best of all you did it clean. Dumping bodies and keeping guards quiet can be quite expensive.”

“I didn’t have too much trouble either, they were very _eager_ to hand the gold over thanks to the tips you gave,” Kyrwyn said as she handed him the debts.

Placing the coin on the table to the left of him he said, “Well done, and I suppose I owe you something in return. Here you go, I think you’ll find these quite useful.” as he finished speaking he handed me three potions.

_Not a huge fan of poisons but I’m sure they could sell for a fair price. The fortify health might be of use in a pinch and_ this sneak one, might be of use, time will tell. she thought as she slipped the potions in her pack and said, “Thanks Brynjolf.”

“Judging from how well you handled those shopkeepers, I’d say you’ve done more than prove yourself. We need more people like you in our outfit.”

“If there’s more gold, I’m in,” she beamed.

“That’s the spirit! Larceny’s in your blood… the telltale sign of a practiced thief. I think you’ll do more than fit in around here.” he smirked at her, pride in his eyes.

“However, I’ve heard rumors of the Guild being in dismal state…?” Kyrwyn asked.

He hesitated before saying, “We’ve run into a rough patch lately, but it’s nothing to be concerned about. Tell you what, you keep making us coin and I’ll worry about everything else. Fair enough?”

“Fair enough.”.

“Now if there are no more questions, how about following me and I’ll show you what we’re all about,” Brynjolf said as he motioned for her to follow.


	5. Simple Heists, Complex Organizations

Brynjolf and Kyrwyn walked to the right of the bar and into what appeared to be a storage area, and dead ahead was a door; to the left were shelves holding bottles of mead and to the right of that was an unusual looking cabinet. Brynjolf unexpectedly went for the cabinet and opened it, revealing a secret entrance to another corridor. Brynjolf was silent as he opened another door leading to a new room.

Inside this new room was a big cistern that seemed to be directly underneath the town marketplace. The outer rim was lined with beds, a table, an archery target, a big desk with shelves littered haphazardly with papers, a tunnel which she’d have to explore, later on, a vault, and the entrance to the actual Flagon.

“Mercer, this is the one I was talking about… our new recruit.” Brynjolf said as the pair neared the center where a middle-aged Breton stood, his eyes dark and unreadable and his dark hair unkempt. Were his face not permanently in a scowl, maybe he’d have appeared to be more welcoming. But the vibes coming off of Mercer weren’t welcoming. In fact, all Kyrwyn wanted to do was run in the opposite direction.

_Come on Kyrwyn, _she thought to herself, _you came this far, you can handle a grumpy, unusually tall, and angry Breton, there isn’t anything to fear. _She tried to convince herself.

Kyrwyn swallowed the lump of thoughts bubbling in her throat and looked Mercer in the eye which wasn’t a very hard task considering he was nearly as tall as she was, and instead said sweetly, “Pleasure to meet you, Mercer, I’m Ozinvey and it’s an honor to be apart of the Guild.” 

“This better not be a waste of the Guild’s resources, Brynjolf.” he said bitterly to Brynjolf before turning to Kyrwyn, “Before we continue, I want to make one thing _perfectly_ clear. If you play by the rules, you walk away rich. You break the rules and you lose your share. No debates, no discussions… you do what we say when we say. Do I make myself clear?” he finished, his gruff voice sounding annoyed his eyes clearly showing distaste.

“Yes, I understand,” she nodded quickly.

“Good, then I think it’s time we put your expertise to the test,” he smiled sadistically as if he was going to send her to the chopping block.

Kyrwyn swallowed nervously as Brynjolf interjected, “Wait a moment, you’re not talking about _Goldenglow_ are ye? Even our little Vex couldn’t get in.” he said as his eyebrows furrowed in thought and slight worry.

He turned his head towards Brynjolf, “You claim this recruit possesses an aptitude for our line of work. If so, let _her_ prove it.” he then turned to face me, “Goldenglow Estate is critically important to one of our largest clients. However, the owner has decided to take matters into his own hands and shut us out. He needs to be taught a lesson. Brynjolf will provide you with the details.”

Kyrwyn nodded silently as Brynjolf said, “Mercer, aren’t you forgetting something?”

“Hmm?” Mercer paused, “Oh _yes_. Since Brynjolf assures me you’ll be nothing but a benefit to us, then you’re in. _Welcome to the Thieves Guild,_” he drawled.

Kyrwyn nodded, “Thank you.” she beamed sweetly at him even though in that precise moment that was the last thing she wanted to be doing toward this Breton.

Mercer walked away and toward the desk and Brynjolf turned to her, “Welcome to the family lass, I’m expecting you to make us a lot of coin, so don’t disappoint me.”

“I aim to please, not disappoint.” Kyrwyn chuckled before saying, “So how do I get my cut of the spoils?”

“Simple, Do as you're told and keep your blade clean. We can’t turn a profit by killing. You should talk to Delvin Mallory and Vex. They know their way around this place and they’ll be able to kick some extra jobs your way. Oh and talk to Tonilia in the Flagon… she’ll set you up with some new armor.”

Kyrwyn nodded, “So, tell me about this Goldenglow job.”

“Goldenglow estate is a bee farm; they raise the _wretched_ little things for honey. It’s owned by some smart-mouthed High Elf named Aringoth. We need you to teach him a lesson by burning down three of the estate’s hives and clearing out the safe in the main house.”

“What’s the catch?” She asked arching an eyebrow, there’s _always_ a catch, it seems.

“The catch is you can’t burn the whole place to the ground. That important client Mercer mentioned would be furious if you did.”

“Makes sense,” she nodded taking in all the information.

“Aye, the last thing we want to be doing is crossing our clients.”

“What should I do about Aringoth?”

“Maven prefers that Aringoth remains alive, but if he tried to stop you from getting the job done, kill him. The Guild has a lot riding on this. Don’t make _me _look foolish by mucking it up.”

“Is there any more information you can give me about Goldenglow? I would like to know what I can before walking into this thing blind.”

“Goldenglow Estate brought in a mountain of gold for the Guild. You could almost call it our_ sweetest deal_. Then out of the clear blue. Aringoth stops sending us our cut. Mercer was… well angry to put it kindly. So we sent in Vex and found out he’s hired a bunch of mercenaries to guard the place,” he said quietly.

“Mercenaries? Not Riften guards?” she furrowed her eyebrows in confusion

“Aye. Aringoth sent the city packing and fortified the entire island. In fact, Vex barely made it out alive. You should talk to her about it before you go,” he nodded earnestly.

“How do I destroy the hives?”

“They’re built like small fortresses to resist the weather, but their one weakness is flame. Besides, nothing tells the people of Riften we mean business better than a huge column of smoke.”

“Why not level the estate?”

“I’ll give you one good reason, _Maven Black-Briar._ Burn all the hives and she’d have to import honey for Black-Briar Meadery which would cut into her profits.”

“So Maven is this ‘influential client’?” Kyrwyn arched an eyebrow.

“We had an arrangement with Maven. We kept an eye on Goldenglow Estate to make sure the honey kept flowing. If the workers had a dispute, we’d rough ‘em up. If competitors tried to buy honey from Aringoth, we’d steal the shipments. In return, Maven allowed us to extort Aringoth and bring in a huge payout.”

“Very well,” she nodded, “Just curious, how dangerous is it to cross her?”

“Alright lass, let me put it to you this way. _Nothing_ happens in Riften without Maven’s consent. One word from her and you could spend the _rest of the fourth era_ in prison.”

Kyrwyn nodded slowly, “Thanks Brynjolf. The information is greatly appreciated.”

“No problem. You watch yourself on that island. Those mercenaries don’t take prisoners.”

She nodded again, numbly, as she went back into the Flagon to talk to Vex for more Goldenglow information and Tonilia about getting new armor.

Kyrwyn was able to find Tonilia no problem as she was the only Redguard down there. She had rather short black hair, dark skin, and chocolate brown eyes.

“Are you Tonilia?” she asked as she approached the Redguard.

“That’d be me, and you must be the new recruit, _Ozinvey_? In that case, looks like you and I will have to get well acquainted.”

“Acquainted?” she asked, dumbfounded

“I’m the fence down here, you come by anything you don’t exactly _own_ and I’ll pay you some coin for it. Minus a little slice for the Guild, of course. I can also provide a few supplies useful to our trade and again, for a small fee.”

“Anything ya don’t charge for?” she asked, jokingly.

“Sure, how ‘bout I get Dirge to knock you over your head and throw you into the cistern?” she chuckled and then her tone shifted from joking to serious as she said, “Look, I’ve been in this business a long time and I’ve seen all types. You can play it tough, you can play it smart… whatever. In the end, you’ll find that all we care about down here is how much gold you can make us.”

“Understood didn’t mean to offend you, Tonilia,” she blurted out.

“Good. Then that’s all there is to it. Here’s your new armor. Make sure you put it to good use.” she responded as she handed Kyrwyn a folded pile of armor.

The armor felt like leather and yet it felt breathable and possibly water-resistant. It also had many pockets in it, which would become exceedingly useful for stealing small items and leaving her hands free.

“Thank you,” she beamed at Tonilia

Kyrwyn began to walk back to the actual cistern to find a place to change into them when she was stopped by a man in sleeveless light gray guild attire. He was a Nord with long brown hair framing his face and had a short beard.

“Hey can I talk to you for a second?” he asked.

“Sure what’s up…?” she responded.

“It’s Vipir by the way, Vipir the Fleet.”

“Pleasure Vipir, my name is Ozin, short for Ozinvey. anyway, what’d you want to talk about?”

“Well, you’re making waves around here. I like that. If you wanna talk about anything, just let me know,” he said smiling softly.

“Thanks, Vipir, actually there is something we can talk about. Would you mind introducing me to the other guildmates and possibly showing me around?”

“Of course, anything for the new recruit.” he smiled as he showed around the cistern and introduced Kyrwyn to Rune, Niruin, Cynric, and Etienne.

_They’re awful polite. _she thought to herself, _although they do appear to be quite immature all except Etienne who seemed to be the most collected._

Vipir then showed her to an unoccupied bed and empty chest and nightstand which had two books laying on top. 

“We may be thieves down here, but most of us will leave personal belongings alone, or at least _I_ will,” he said, laughing quietly as he opened the chest to reveal a commoner’s dress lying inside the chest, “dress for when you wish to wear normal attire, and you can set whatever else you want in it.” he pointed at the books and then said, “Delvin gives those to each newcomer, one contains Shadowmarks in it, which I recommend you learn them so you can spot what’s safe and what isn’t easily.”

“Thanks, do you know where I can change into my new armor?”

“Oh yeah, normally we all just change in the same room, except Vex, Tonilia, Sapphire, and now you. They normally change in the Flagon, right before the door to the cistern there’s a tunnel leading to a room that has some privacy if you desire privacy.” he smiled, “Is that all?”

“Yes, thank you Vipir,” Kyrwyn smiled as he walked away.

Once he was away she stowed some of the materials that weren’t needed in her chest.

_This is a tight fit, might as well use some magic to make it roomier. _she muttered to herself as her fingertips on her left hand glowed a soft white as she held it over the chest, the space within the chest expanded to triple the size without affecting the outer appearance of the chest.

_Undetectable extension charm works every time. _she smiled at her handiwork before stowing what other items she didn’t need and shutting the chest shut.

She immediately went back into the Flagon into the room Vipir mentioned and changed out of her tight leather armor and also removed the extra layers before putting on her new armor.

The jacket and pants fit like a glove and were rather soft on the inside yet they both appeared to be rather sturdy. The new gauntlets left her fingers exposed which would be good for lockpicking and stealing small objects; the gloves she got off the Orc were big enough that they could easily go overtop of the gauntlets. The boots also fit rather well and appeared to be more waterproof than most boots one could make out of leather. The hood was soft, warm, and also durable; big enough to conceal her face if she needed to remain anonymous. 

After she finished lacing up her boots Kyrwyn used a spare leather strip to tie her long hair back and out of her face, placing her old armor in the chest residing in the cistern.

_Okay, time to talk to Vex, now you’re just stalling… _Kyrwyn thought to herself shaking her head to clear her thoughts as she walked toward where an Imperial female with shoulder-length white hair whom Kyrwyn assumed to be Vex.

“Before we begin, I want to make two things perfectly clear. One, I’m the best infiltrator this rathole of a Guild’s got, so if you think you’re here to replace me, you’re dead wrong. And two, you follow my lead and do exactly as I say… no questions, no excuses,” Vex said abruptly as I approached.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Good, then we understand each other… good. Now it’s time to get your feet wet and I don’t waste a lot of time talking about anything other than business.”

“What sort of business?”

“I’m not going to sugar-coat it for you. We’re in a bad way down here.”

“Any idea why?” Kyrwyn blinked, confused.

“Who knows? Old Delvin thinks it’s some kind of curse. I think he’s crazy. If you want my opinion, I say it’s plain old bad luck.”

“Is there any way I can help, Vex?”

“You can get out there and start making a name for us again… make them start fearing us as they did long ago. And while you’re at it, make a little bit of coin on the side. Not a bad deal, eh?”

“Not a bad deal at all. Now, I heard you got into some trouble with Goldenglow.”

“You heard right, Ozinvey. That High Elf’s ‘wit, he’s a lot smarter than I expected. Can you believe that the fetcher had more than tripled the guard? There must’ve been eight of them in there. It was as if he was daring us to come and get him.”

“Got any tips for me to slip in?”

“Well, there’s an old sewer tunnel that dumps into the lake on the northwest of the island. That’s how I got in. Should still be unguarded.”

“Thanks, Vex,” Kyrwyn nodded pulling her hood over her head as she walked back to the cistern and ascended the ladder and out of the cistern and back into Riften.


	6. Smooth Entrance, Rough Mercenaries

Kyrwyn found herself in a secret entrance to the Guild, a pull chain was to her immediate right, as she pulled on the chain the ceiling opened up revealing that she was in an old cemetery inside Riften and the entrance was in fact masked by a ‘coffin.’

She chuckled to herself as she walked up to the steps and walked out of the cemetery, and into the marketplace where she purchased all the lockpicks Grelka had and then went to Balimund and purchased all the lockpicks he had. 

_Brings my total lockpicks to thirty, hopefully, that’ll be enough. _she thought as she carefully stowed ten lockpicks in a pocket on the right sleeve of her new jacket, stowing the rest in her pack carefully as she walked toward the door leading outside the city right between The Scorched Hammer and Black-Briar Meadery. Kyrwyn descended the steps and took a left until she was on the land by Merryfair Farm. She continued walking until she was at the closest point to Goldenglow.

_Swimming will put me at an advantage, I’ll get closer to the sewer and hopefully avoid the mercenaries. Even though it will take more time and energy to get to the island._

Kyrwyn sealed all the pockets in her pack with a bit of magic and secured it tightly over her shoulder and waded into the water slowly getting used to the cool temperature until she was neck-deep. Once she was settled with the water she began to swim using long strokes to preserve the energy she was sure to need later on.

About fifteen minutes of swimming later she had arrived on the island next to the sewer entrance. It didn’t take as much energy as Kyrwyn had suspected the trip would take but nonetheless, she opened her miraculously dry pack and took a sip of the water she kept in a waterskin. Looking around she saw that there was not a mercenary in her direct line of sight.

“Perfect,” she whispered to no one as she crouched down and opened the sewer grate and descended the ladder.

As soon as she was in the sewer, Kyrwyn used a very weak fire spell to help her dry off and resumed sneaking down the tunnel.

_Let’s see how much of my illusion skill I remember. _She thought, chuckling softly as she carefully tried to cast a Muffle spell, the spell was cast and emitted a popping sound.

_That didn’t sound right. _Kyrwyn thought as her eyebrows furrowed in concentration as she cautiously took a step. Her footsteps were quieter, however, not silent as they should be.

_Guess that too is getting rusty. So Invisibility isn’t going to work either, that one is even more complicated _and_ difficult even at an expert level._

She continued through the sewer and came across three skeevers which she took out quickly by casting firebolts at them. Kyrwyn followed the system until she came across what seemed to be a dead end. To her left was a ladder and to the right was what seemed to be a drop point.

She made note of the drop point as she ascended the ladder and out of the sewer.

_Vex was right, it is indeed unguarded._

There wasn’t a mercenary anywhere in her line of vision from where she emerged from the sewer. However, they weren’t very far away either, their footsteps were awful loud easily allowing Kyrwyn to pinpoint where they were.

She crept toward the back door of the estate and tried to carefully pick the lock. By the time she was able to get the door open, she broke seven of the lockpicks.

_Shit, twenty-three lockpicks remaining._

Kyrwyn stepped inside and found herself at the end of a hall, she crept forward and when she hit the wall on the other side she took a left into an open space that had chairs and tables lined along the walls.

_So far no mercenaries. But still never hurts to be cautious. _she thought as she cast another Muffle spell. This time the popping that followed was deafened in comparison to the first casting of it, in addition, her footsteps were near silent this time.

_Closer to what’s expected of that spell. _

There were two ways that Kyrwyn could go, to the left into what appeared to be a large dining room, or dead ahead where a Nord mercenary with short blonde hair clad in leather armor was seated at a table, his back facing her.

To her better judgment, she took the left to the apparent dining room that resembled the rest of what she had seen of the estate, wood walls, and floors, but instead of many small tables, there was one large table in the center with fresh food strewn about on the table, apparently set for a luncheon or dinner perhaps.

As she passed the table she grabbed a slice of goat cheese off of a platter and ate it as quickly and quietly as she continued through to the next room. And she took a right to a barred gate that resembled the gate of a prison cell. She looked to her right to see an Imperial mercenary with dark brown hair, clad in similar armor to the first mercenary, coming toward the gate so Kyrwyn quickly crept back into the dining room until he walked back the way he came. She crept back out as soon as she heard the footsteps diminish and went back to the gate.

She picked the lock on the gate without breaking a lockpick, thankfully, however, the mercenary was back and he now charged at Kyrwyn with an iron sword.

A moment later he was upon her. He shoved the right side of her body into the wall and pressed the flat edge of the sword to her throat. She could not reach any of her daggers from the position she was being held in so she did the most logical thing she could manage, and that was to give him a smile and punch him as hard as Kyrwyn could in the nose with her free hand, which happened to be her sword arm.

That did it, his nose broke under her left fist and he let go of her howling in pain, clutching his nose which was now bleeding profusely, scarlet dripping on the floor and making the air smell of rusting copper. Kyrwyn grabbed her dagger from her boot in her left hand as he lunged at her with his iron sword in his right hand. She used her dagger to block most of the blow; however, the dagger she wielded was small and wasn’t really an even match when compared to an iron sword, her left forearm was cut in the process. She cursed and lunged at her opponent tackling him to the ground stabbing him in the throat with her dagger as he went down, splattering her face with the blood spewing from the wound.

His howls of pain were cut off and replaced with the sound of the mercenary choking on his own blood, he struggled a moment longer, deep black eyes wide and terrified looking into Kyrwyn’s own icy blue eyes, then he was no more.

Kyrwyn muttered a farewell to the mercenary she had just killed; she heard the sound of footsteps approach her, it was the mercenary she found sitting earlier. He saw me covered in his companions' blood and charged toward her with an iron greatsword at his side and yelling at the top of his lungs.

Kyrwyn giggled softly as she easily dodged his blows, “When does that ever work?” she asked rhetorically, smirked darkly, and charged a bolt of fire at his hands hoping it would make him drop his blade.

He yelped in pain as the flesh on his hands began to burn but he remained resilient gripping his blade tightly.

“A little bit of magic isn’t going to scare me off,” He growled as he lunged forward to strike.

Before he could strike Kyrwyn rolled out of the way and she launched another firebolt at him, this time hitting the center of his leather cuirass. To this, he removed one hand from his blade to pat the flames.

“By Ysmir you’ll pay for that!” he snarled as he charged at her again. 

This time she retaliated by sending a bolt of lightning at him. He yelped in pain as he dropped his weapon. The second he dropped the weapon she kicked it across the hall and grabbed him by the throat and pinned him against the wall.

“Magic or not, I’m not going to be paying for anything today,” she muttered darkly, lifting him by his neck higher as she drew her steel sword from its sheath and pressed the tip of the blade to his chest. He began clawing Kyrwyn’s hand to loosen her grip as he teared up and turned purple

_These guys are worthless. Crying at the sight of a Nord woman that can handle herself in battle. _ She thought as she dropped the mercenary to the ground. 

Gasping for air, the mercenary darted toward his greatsword and gripped it tightly charging back to where Kyrwyn stood and brought it over his head to strike her down. She did not have enough time to dodge so she raised her own steel sword in an effort to block the strike. The sound of their swords clashing reverberated throughout the estate. He kept pushing momentum into his greatsword inevitably causing Kyrwyn’s own blade to sever about a quarter away from the hilt of the sword.

“Shit!” Kyrwyn growled as she backed away from the Nord and threw her worthless sword aside.

_By Ysmir, Brynjolf was right, these mercenaries may be daft, but they don’t take prisoners, _Kyrwyn thought as she rolled out of the way of another blow.

“You won’t leave the estate alive!” he shouted at her.

“Try me,” she chuckled, bravado getting the better of her, again, as he slashed at her again this time cutting a shallow gash in her shoulder with his blade.

Kyrwyn gripped her shoulder in surprise, pain, and fury as she inhaled and thought a Word clearly before enunciating it aloud.

“_Fus!_” she shouted as the mercenary was staggered by a strong force of air that was her Thu’um.

It gave her the upper hand Kyrwyn needed to draw her dagger and get close enough to mortally wound him. She heated the blade with a firebolt before throwing the dagger into the center of his ribcage.

“Well, that does it,” she muttered as the Nord coughed up blood and moved no more, Kyrwyn grabbed the dagger and yanked it out of his corpse, stood up, looked down at him, and shook her head as she opened the gate and continued down to the basement.


End file.
